Ichor
by Venstre
Summary: "Chuck had told him to slow down. Chuck had told him to watch that curve but Mike hadn't listened. He'd taken it too fast and they'd gone over the edge, Mutt rolling and crashing and the sound of Chuck screaming and the tearing and crunching of metal assaulting his ears." Written for a fill on the kinkmeme, rating will go up in later chapters. Mike/Chuck, mature themes.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**:  
**Description**: "Chuck had told him to slow down. Chuck had told him to watch that curve but Mike hadn't listened. He'd taken it too fast and they'd gone over the edge, Mutt rolling and crashing and the sound of Chuck screaming and the tearing and crunching of metal assaulting his ears." Written for a fill on the kinkmeme, rating will go up in later chapters. Mike/Chuck, mature themes.  
**Pairing(s)**: Mike/Chuck  
**Word Count**: -  
**Notes**: Written for a prompt on the kink meme, but this fic is very un-kinky. Let's assume they're already together okay

I haven't really written much (quality…) fic like this, with tender near-death moments, so I hope that it's good enough.

* * *

If Mike has to describe what he's feeling right now with a single word, he doesn't think he'd be able to.

Maybe it would be panic, or fear. He's pretty goddamn afraid. But there's guilt, too, and a lot of it; clenching down on his chest like a giant hand. And with that guilt comes anger—at himself, at that stupid gang, and at the rest of the Burners for splitting off when he told them to stick together. Though really, he's mostly angry with himself. His impulsive, ignorant self.

(Chuck had told him to slow down. Chuck had told him to watch that curve oh my god Mikey you're going to fast no no _stop slow down we're not going to make it MIKE OH MY GOD_ and Mike hadn't listened. He'd taken it too fast and they'd gone over the edge, Mutt rolling and crashing and the sound of Chuck screaming and the tearing and crunching of metal assaulting his ears. At least until he'd hit his head—then he didn't hear anything.)

And now they're trapped in this cave of rocks and debris, and Mike doesn't know where Chuck's gone or where they are. All he knows is that he's upside down, and the only thing keeping him from falling on his head is his seatbelt.

"Chuck?" he calls out, unbuckling himself and cushioning his landing with his arms. Mutt's wrecked, and it doesn't help that today was the one day Chuck was wearing the normal seatbelt instead of his usual octopus one. He was adding something to it—what exactly it was Mike wasn't quite to sure—and he didn't have time to re-install it before they left.

But Chuck's seat is empty, and there's a piece of glass the size of Mike's hand sticking out where Chuck's shoulder should have been. It's ripped the one strap that was holding Chuck in, and even in the gloom, Mike can see it's dark with blood.

"Chuck!" he yells, more desperate now, kicking out the bloodied mess that's left of the passenger-side window and scrambling out. He falls onto his side, letting out a frustrated groan when he feels something in his left arm flare up in pain, but pushes himself to his feet anyways.

Mutt's totaled. If Mike thought he could salvage her, he was wrong. She's nothing but a twisted heap of metal now, strewn across the small cave with her frame resting pathetically against the back wall. The wall that he's now almost pressed up against, now that he realizes it.

There's a cough, and Mike whips around. Chuck. He whips out his spark staff, lighting it up, and instantly the place is washed in the cool bluish light.

There. Pinned between the wall and what Mike thinks might be the torn remains of the back fender, Mike sees a bit of yellow against the cold gray of the metal and the bright green of Mutt's paint. With a shout he runs towards him, leaping over the obstacles in the way.

At first he's confused—Chuck has way more hair than what's visible. But as he gets closer and sees the dark sheen spread around his body, Mike's confusion turns to blinding panic.

"No," he gasps, falling beside Chuck. The blood soaks through the knees of his pants, but at this point he really doesn't care. He reaches out a hand to take Chuck's pulse, and almost lets out a cry of relief when he feels it there.

Mike stabs the staff into the ground, still using the other end for light, and carefully goes about examining Chuck. His left leg and lower torso are caught under fallen debris, and it's too dark for Mike to go about trying to dig him out.

"Julie!" he yells, hoping she'll read his signature. "Texas, Dutch, anyone! Someone help!"

Of course it won't work. They can't read them all the way from down in the cave; there's too much blocking the signal.

Mike curses at himself, and tries in vain to lift the back fender off of Chuck. But it's heavy, and there's too much stacked on top of it, and his efforts are in vain. With a yell he falls back, landing right beside Chuck once more.

The programmer stirs, reaching out a hand to rest against Mike's leg. His bangs, sticky with blood from a cut on his head, are at last out of his unfocused eyes, and Mike shudders when he sees real fear reflected in them. "Mikey?" he murmurs, trying to make sense of what's going on.

"Yes, Chuck," Mike answers, quickly scrambling over to take Chuck's hand. He drops beside him, not caring that now all his clothes are going to be stained with blood, and examines Chuck's physical state. He's probably broken a lot of bones—Mike _knows _he has; his elbow juts out and his collarbone seems to be in two pieces and Mike's sure that isn't even the start of his injuries—and he won't be getting up anytime soon.

"You…I told you to slow down."

Mike hasn't cried since he was a kid, and he's not about to now. He takes off his jacket and drapes it over Chuck, not quite able to fit it on properly with Chuck lying on his side, and Chuck lets out a hiss of pain. He's probably got broken ribs, too. "I know," Mike tells him, and he brushes away the rest of his hair from his face. "I should have listened to you. And I will. I'll never put you through that again."

Chuck's eyes sparkle in the dim light, and he closes them before Mike can read him properly. "I know."

In all the years Mike has known Chuck, he's never seen him this quiet. Hell, the guy is noisy even in his _sleep_. But now, as tears glisten on his face and his brows scrunch together in pain, he doesn't make a sound. And that terrifies Mike.

"We're going to get through this," Mike tells him. "And then we'll rebuild Mutt, and I'll find those goons and we'll take them down, and—"

"Mike," Chuck interrupts. His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, but it stops Mike in his tracks.

"Yeah, Chuckles?"

"Please don't leave."

Mike nods when Chuck's eyes open again, and he rips off his shirt to turn it into bandages. Chuck doesn't utter a word as Mike words, apart from the odd whimper if Mike's a little rough. By the end of it Mike sits back down, cradling Chuck's head in his lap, and presses a kiss to Chuck's forehead. "I won't leave if you don't."

Chuck smiles a little bit, but it doesn't last very long.

Instantly, Mike regrets his promise. If he stays here, no one will find them and Chuck will die—but if he leaves, something could happen and cause the same scenario. Maybe he'll wait until Chuck loses consciousness again and then go out once more.

It's right then that Chuck shudders, letting out a cry of pain as it jostles his broken bones, and Mike holds him closer. He needs to leave, he needs to leave _right now_ and flag down Julie and Texas and Dutch because they're never going to find him otherwise.

But at the same time, he needs to stay here, with Chuck. For someone with nerves as sensitive as his, being trapped and alone with almost no light would be like a living nightmare. Mike wouldn't be able to live with himself if the last thing Chuck felt was fear.

He's still thinking, still weighing his options, when Chuck begins to cough. The movement is agonizing for him and he cries out, his eyes clenched shut against tears that make their way out anyways. Mike just holds him closer, knowing that he did this; that he's responsible.

The rasping noise that makes its way out of Chuck's lungs sends a cold shiver down Mike's spine. He needs to get up and leave, to flag down the others and get Chuck help. But he can't leave him here alone; he _won't_. Chuck will not die alone, soaked in his own blood in a cave in the middle of nowhere.

Mike knows they'll come for him. He just doesn't know when, or if they'll make it in time.

So instead of leaving, Mike just leans over and sets his head on Chuck's shoulder. If he said he didn't cry it would be a lie, but by the time Chuck's gone unconscious and Mike lifts his head up again Chuck's got no colour to his skin and Mike's out of tears. He didn't think that Chuck could have gotten paler, but he realizes that he was wrong.

Chuck isn't moving at all now, save his breathing, and Mike thinks he might scream. But he won't, for Chuck's sake.

So when he finally hears the roar of engines a few minutes later and the worried shouts of Julie and Dutch, Mike's heart skips a beat. He accidentally jostles Chuck, but the blonde is so far gone by now he doesn't make a noise in complaint.

As the three of them come in with flashlights, calling out to them, Mike calls back.

When they find them, Julie crying out in shock and Dutch rushing forward, Mike won't let go. Their words reach him but he can't hear, because Chuck's stopped breathing and Mike promised he wouldn't leave. Texas grabs hold of him and pulls him back. Dutch frees Chuck from the debris, and Julie pulls him out and performs mouth-to-mouth. Mike just shouts and thrashes, desperate to get out of Texas's clutches and over by Chuck's side.

So they let him ride home with Julie and Chuck, holding his friend's head steady in his lap the whole ride home and trying to ignore the fact that even with his hand over his heart, he can't feel Chuck's heartbeat anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

It takes Chuck three days to wake up.

And as soon as he does he looks around, his hair pushed out of his face, and promptly falls unconscious again. At least it's something.

A week and a half later, and he still hasn't made another turnaround. Jacob had told Mike that his body had to recover and produce more blood, and even with the technology they have that speeds up the process tenfold, it still takes a while. Mike remembered reading an ancient piece of literature saying something about once replacing what was lost with the blood of similar people, but he was again told that that process was replaced years ago by the newer, safer process. Newer and safer, maybe, but it took much longer.

So when he's not fighting whatever Kane decides to throw at them, he's there, sitting beside Chuck's bed and waiting for him to regain consciousness once more. And it rips Mike's heart apart, knowing that he's the one that did this to him.

"You really shouldn't be so hard on yourself," Julie tells him one day, catching him by surprise. He hadn't heard her enter, and her voice over his shoulder was unexpected.

"No, I really should." With a sigh, Mike rests his head on his hands once more as he leans over the arm of his chair. "I did this, remember?"

Then Julie is in front of him, scowling in his direction with her hands on her hips. "It was an accident," she argues. "Have you heard of the word? It means an unfortunate and unintentional incident. You didn't plan for that to happen. How could you have?"

"I could have listened to him!" With a huff Mike stands, his hands in fists at his sides. "I could have just put aside my own selfish need to put ourselves in danger to get kicks, and actually listened to Chuck. Taken that curve slower, kept control of Mutt, and saved them both from paying for my mistake!"

"Don't you _dare_ go there," Julie growls, stepping up so that she's less than a foot away. She glares up at Mike; fire in her eyes as silently challenges him to fight back.

"I will, and you know it," Mike snarls back, getting up in her face as well.

"I thought better of you."

"You thought wrong."

Julie's face is twisting in the beginning of a nasty remark when they hear a rustle behind them, and they turn to see Chuck looking at them with heavy-lidded eyes.

He manages a weak smile, looking between the two with sad amusement. "Quite th' scene t' wake up to," he drawls, his voice raspy and slurred. No wonder—he hasn't used it now for almost two weeks.

"Chuck!" Julie and Mike shout in unison, and immediately they're both by his side.

"Are you okay?" Mike asks, grabbing the glass of water for him from beside the bed.

"How are you feeling?" Julie inquires, running her fingers over the machine as she checks his body's various levels.

It isn't quite a laugh that makes its way out of Chuck's lips, but it's close. "Like shit," he sighs, flexing a hand. Though he's mostly healed, he's been out for so long even the stuff Jacob put him on can't block out all the side effects. At least his speech is improving. "Like I got hit by a tonna bricks."

Julie smiles, tears in her eyes, while Mike freezes up. "How much do you remember?" he asks, a touch of hesitation to his voice.

Closing his eyes, Chuck shakes his head. "I don't wanna remember," he says, bringing a hand to brush a stray piece of hair from his face. "Maybe in a day 'r two. Just…do y'got anything to eat?"

That makes Mike chuckle. "Sure thing, bud. I'll get you something."

Julie gives him another look as he hurries out, and he can hear her making conversation with Chuck back in the room without him. Mike just needs a breather, a second to catch himself and think a course of action through that won't cause more bad than good again.

As he assembles a sandwich for him, taking his time to gather his thoughts. What if Chuck has amnesia and doesn't remember anything? What if the horrible blood loss he suffered did something to his brain, and he won't be able to program anymore? What if he doesn't remember what went on between him and Mike the last couple of months? Mike shakes the thoughts from his head, taking a deep breath before grabbing the plate and walking back.

A smile makes its way onto his face when he reenters the room, despite his fears. Chuck keeps subconsciously trying to push his hair back in his face, and Julie's got her elbows propped up on his bed. She's poised like a cat, alert and upright in a way that only Julie can pull off.

"Here's some grub," Mike says, announcing his reappearance. Chuck's looking a little better now, and with their help, he actually sits up to dig into the monster of a sandwich Mike's brought back for him.

Mike can't ignore how Julie's eyes flicker between him and Chuck. He thinks it might be that she has something to settle with him that she can't quite get off her mind.

Actually, he knows it.

But instead of causing a scene and causing Chuck to regress, Mike holds his tongue and carries on merry conversation with them. Chuck wants to do a safety check on the new Mutt before they take her out, and Julie's got some new war tech that he might be interested in. Things that Chuck wants to talk about, not them. And by the time he wants to rest again and Mike and Julie leave, he's almost smiling again.

"Don't think I've forgotten our little 'talk,' Mike," Julie growls as Mike heads in the opposite direction of her.

Mike just waves a hand in the air in farewell, doesn't give her a glance back, and ignores her sharp gaze following him down the hallway.

* * *

Everything goes downhill from there.

Chuck begins to remember things, from the first time he and Mike kissed to being under the influence of that booster to all the way back living in Deluxe. And he tells Mike as he remembers, until he really thinks hard and remembers the accident.

Mike was terrified this would happen. Chuck grows quiet around him, not sharing as much and smiling significantly less. And as much as Mike tries to coax him into laughing or just being joyful, or remembering the fun time's they've had, he can't seem to break past this…_barrier_ that seems to have sprouted out of nowhere between them.

When Chuck shies away from a kiss goodbye as Mike leaves to go saddle up in Mutt and take on some Kanebots, he knows that something is very wrong. But he doesn't have time to stop and ask, and instead, he just leaves and tries not to notice the despairing look in Chuck's eyes.

"I told you, I'm worried," Mike explains to Julie, her little boxy head looking temporarily murderous as she takes down a couple of bots on her tail. Dutch and Texas aren't part of this little chat, and since she already knows about the two of them, Mike can go to her for help.

"Just give him some time." Julie turns her attention back to him now that she's bot-less, and gives him half a smile. "He almost died, and he hit his head pretty hard. What if it's like one of those cases where he feels like a different person and you need to start from square one again?"

Mike almost loses control of Mutt at that. "What? Go back to square _one?_" He's incredulous and frankly a little afraid, but then his rational mind takes over again. "No, that's not it. You saw how he was at the beginning; it was like nothing changed. It was just after he remembered the accident that he started acting weird."

"Well, I'm going to need to think about it some more if you want an answer," Julie sighs, her box-head turning to the side before looking suddenly surprised. "Watch out!" she shouts, and with a blast of her canon, another bot falls to the ground beside Mutt.

"Thanks for that." Mike scowls, turning his attention back to the incoming attack. "Try talking to him or something. He won't say much with me anymore." It hurts, but Mike's not about to acknowledge it here and now.

Julie nods, her icon doing a little bow-like gesture. "Will do. Anyways, you should pay more attention to saving your own butt than saving your ego." She smirks and disappears before Mike can argue back.

Talking to her always puts him in a good mood, and by the time he gets back he feels more confident in himself. He notices that Chuck sticks to Julie as Texas relays his own version of what happened to him and Jacob, though, and dampens Mike's mood a bit.

"Texas thinks we should go get pizza," he ends with, and looks around, nodding at the team.

Mike nods. "That sounds great. I think we can all agree that getting some food is the right way to go right now."

"Yeah," Julie agrees, walking towards her car. "I think so too. Antonio's it is."

Texas starts badgering Dutch about something, and Mike begins to walk over to Mutt. He's about to open the passenger door when he notices that Chuck isn't with him, and turns around.

"Hey, Chuck—"

His voice doesn't carry very far—or at least not far enough to reach Julie's car, which Chuck is currently climbing into.

It's like a slap to the face, and though Mike knows he shouldn't take it seriously, he does. He can't even lie to himself about Chuck 'always catching rides with the other Burners,' because he's only ever ridden with someone else if Mutt was out for the count or Mike was off doing something that Chuck couldn't tag along during. Because really, Mutt is almost as much Chuck's car as she is Mike's (though he'd never, _ever_ admit that.)

But it's the first time Chuck's really been out in weeks, and Mike won't pressure him to tell him what's up and ruin it. Instead he sits on the other side of the table, unable to resist glancing at the other boy every once and a while, and counts the minutes to when they're going home again.

"Hey man, you're awfully quiet," Dutch says beside him, gently knocking him on the arm.

"Yeah, Texas thinks you should stop moping and help him convince Miss Lamepants here why Kung-Fu is way more awesome than science." Texas karate-chops the air to emphasize his point, sending a smirk back at Julie to gauge her reaction.

Julie just frowned at him—and it wasn't the usual unamused frown. It was the stop-it-you're-being-insensitive frown, even if Texas couldn't tell the difference.

With a smile, Mike leans back. "Hey, I'm just thinking. Nothin' serious."

Chuck doesn't look at him. Mike doesn't look at him back. Because as long as neither look at the other, then nothing will have to go on between them.

It's a long dinner, and though Mike tries to laugh and chat and just act normal again, his heart isn't quite in it. There's something about the way that Chuck almost clings to Julie that has Mike edgy, and on the ride home, he keeps his comm off so none of them can contact him.

Dutch, of course, chastises him as soon as he gets back, but Mike just listens with half an ear and then leaves as soon as he's done.

Afterwards, while he's lying above his covers still in his jacket, Julie comes in. She knocks first, of course, and after Mike gives her the okay to enter, she slips in and closes the door behind her.

"I talked to him the whole ride there and the whole ride back," she tells him, sitting on the bed next to him.

"Uh-huh."

"Well…don't you want to hear about it?"

"Of course I do," Mike snaps, his temper temporarily flaring before he takes a deep breath and calms it back down. "Sorry. I just…yes, I do. Continue."

Julie frowns, and rests a hand over his. "I'm sorry, Mike," she starts, and immediately his stomach leaps up into his mouth. That's never a good way to start a sentence. "I wish I could lie and tell you what you want to hear, but I know that you won't believe me, and you'll make me tell you the truth."

"Yes, that's all nice and well," Mike cuts in, waving his hand in the air. "Cut to the chase. Tell me what he said."

"He's afraid."

"He's always afraid."

"He's afraid of you."

That shuts Mike up real quick.

Julie shakes her head, running a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry. He remembers everything, and he's just afraid that the same thing's going to happen again and he'll end up hurting us. And you. He's just…unsure."

"What's there to be unsure of?" Mike yells, jumping up before catching himself and sitting back down. "Things are back to normal! I've learned my lesson!" He sinks back down onto his bed, his head in his hands. "What do I have to do?"

"Give him time," Julie explains, running a hand over his back in a soothing motion. "Time's what he needs. Because in his eyes, even though he knows you weren't directly responsible for that crash, you were still a part of it and he needs time to move on."

Mike sighs and falls backwards, his head hitting the bed with a _whump_. "I can't believe this."

"I can." Julie shrugs, an apologetic look in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Mike, but you can't just nearly kill Chuck and expect there to be no consequences at all. You learned from your mistake and you regret it, I know; but that doesn't give you a free pass."

"Thanks, you're a real help," Mike growls, his voice like acid.

Julie scowls again, but she rests her hand over his briefly before standing. "It's not as much your fault as you think it is. You just need to be patient, and then maybe things'll go back to the way they were."

He can't miss the 'maybe' in that sentence, and Mike lets out another sigh and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, Julie is gone.

And Chuck's gone, too. Just over three weeks ago Mike would flip over in bed and come face-to-face with freckles and blonde eyelashes, whereas now there's nothing but a cold, empty spot next to him.

Mike scowls, trying to ignore the feeling of something clutching his chest and not letting go, and turns back the other way.


End file.
